


A Tiring Evening and a Broken Necklace

by waterlilyinclearwater



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Confusion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, drunk Roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlilyinclearwater/pseuds/waterlilyinclearwater
Summary: It's not Brian May's best day. It gets worse when a drunk Roger shows up at the studio and ends up with his feelings hurt.





	A Tiring Evening and a Broken Necklace

Brian sighed. He’d asked John to come to the studio to lend a listening ear. Brian had been working on a riff that he couldn’t get exactly the way he wanted, but it looked like he’d picked the wrong night. Brian’s brain felt fuzzy. His hands refused to move the way he ordered them to. John looked as if he was going to say something, and Brian readied himself for a sarcastic comment. Instead, he got a ‘Shall we try it one more time? I’m sure you’ll get it next time,’ and a reassuring smile. Somehow, that was worse. Of course John would notice something was off. He quickly looked away and prayed the tears he felt stinging his eyes weren’t visible. He could have taken a sassy comment, but the quiet sympathy in his friend’s tone made it nearly impossible to keep ignoring how tired he felt. Apparently, he took a moment too long to react, because John was starting to look concerned. ‘Or we could do it tomorrow, I think we’ve already done enough for today.’

Brian was spared the trouble of answering as Roger, reeking of alcohol, entered the studio and threw his coat over a nearby chair. It missed and fell to the floor. Roger didn’t bother to pick it up.

‘So, how did your date go?’ Brian asked. He didn’t know why he bothered, for Roger’s face told him all he needed to know, but it couldn’t hurt to be polite. John gave Brian a sideways glance, but made no comment on the fact that Brian had (brushed off )basically ignored the last three things he’d said.

‘It sucked ass,’ Roger grumbled, ‘she was talking the whole time, just couldn’t keep her mouth shut, and I just sat there and smiled politely, nodded and laughed at all the right moments, and then I walked her home and when I tried to kiss her she just stopped me and said it would feel like kissing her best friend, and then she asked me if we could see each other more often, just as friends, and I just … UGH! Put up with all her whining and chattering and chitchat and whatnot, for nothing!’

‘Maybe, if you didn’t want her to see you as a best friend,’ John drawled, ‘you shouldn’t dress that way.’

‘Excuse me?! What’s wrong with the way I dress?’ Roger cried indignantly.

‘Well, Sarah just needs a bulky man who forgets to shave and has no respect for his personal hygiene in order to feel like a woman; and with your high voice and long hair, you’re not that type. And the necklace isn’t helping.’

By now, Roger had gone absolutely livid. Brian should really, really, have known better than to agree with John but… ‘Well, he’s got a point …,’ Brian’s voice trailed off as Roger turned to him, eyes spitting fire.

‘Fuck. You.’ Roger gnarled through his teeth. Brian nearly flinched from the menace Roger managed to squeeze into those two words. They had had arguments before, of course, and they had always managed to resolve their differences, but something told him he’d possibly gone too far this time. Roger tugged at his necklace until it snapped, and threw it at Brian, who was too taken aback too react and it hit him hard in the brow.

‘Jesus, Rog, what the fuck are …’ He didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, because the sound of the door slamming informed him that Roger had already left.

‘Fuck, that hurt,’ Brian cursed under his breath. And if John thought perhaps that wasn’t the only reason for his leaking eyes (for his wet eyes/ for his eyes tearing up), he didn’t say it.

Roger slammed the door behind him. How could they say that? They bloody knew that he hated to be called feminine. To be mistaken for a girl in a club was one thing, but hearing it from his friends hurt so much more. He nearly fell as he tripped over his own feet, but he managed to keep himself upright. A couple of passersby eyed him wearily, but he glared at them until they looked away. Roger rubbed his arms; it was chilly. It had been unusually warm for May, but now the sun had gone down the warmth seemed to have vanished quickly. He realised he’d left his coat at the studio. Bugger. He looked at the sky; the stars seemed to laugh at him. He resisted the urge to yell at them, only for the sake of not appearing more like a nutter than he reckoned he already did. He couldn’t walk straight, was as good as bare-chested without his coat, and he’d probably have a red mark on the back of his neck from when he’d ripped his necklace off.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably no more than twice the amount of time it usually took him to walk home, he found himself in front of his door. It was only when he wanted to grab his keys from his pocket that he realised those were also still in the studio.

‘FUCK!’ he yelled. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ He punctuated each ‘fuck’ by pounding his fist against the door. He sank down on his stoop, tugging at his hair and growling.

After a while he lifted his head from between his knees and stared at his hands. Apparently he’d hit harder than he’d intended, if the blood on his knuckles was anything to go by. He couldn’t feel it through the alcohol flowing through his veins and muddling his brain. He wondered what he should do now. The most sensible option would probably be to head back to the studio and retrieve his coat and keys, but Roger was not a sensible person, and he did not want to face his friends right now.

Back in the studio, Brian decided it was time to call it a day and head home. He hoped John would look past his behaviour tonight and let it slide. He didn’t know why he’d been feeling so on edge (recently) these days, but it probably had something to do with being exhausted after being in the studio so much, and yet still he couldn’t seem to find sleep when he went home.

The four of them were so different, and had completely different views on their music, which led to a lot of friction. They had arguments more often than not, and that made recording songs quite a daunting task.

All of the members of Queen were talented, Brian couldn’t deny that. But he also couldn’t deny the constant fighting. He would definitely try to deny that he lay awake at night, wondering if they even had a future.

John broke his train of thought. ‘Roger forgot his coat.’

‘Oh,’ Brian replied, feeling rather stupid.

John scoffed. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he said: ‘We should take it to him.’

Brian nodded, wishing fervently that this fog in his brain would clear up and let him think. ‘Yeah, we should.’

They cleared away the instruments and equipment they had used, and John picked up Roger’s coat. He held the door open for Brian, and as he was walking over a sparkle caught Brian’s eye. It was the necklace Roger had thrown at him earlier. He inspected it, it seemed only the latch was broken. He picked it up, and followed John out the door.

The moment the chilly London air hit his face and he saw the familiar twinkling of stars in the sky, Brian instantly felt better. He looked at John. ‘Did you get here by car or…?’ He let his voice trail off. To be honest, Brian had no idea if John even had a driving licence or not. He couldn’t help the tiny, nagging feeling of guilt that he didn’t put enough effort into getting to know his quiet, but surprisingly witty friend. John shook his head, but didn’t react to the car part. Must not have been such a strange question then.

‘No, bus. You?’

‘Yeah, same.’

There wasn’t really a bus that went to Roger’s house, and since it was rather close by, they opted for a walk. They didn’t say much on their way to Rogers house, but the silence didn’t feel as awkward as it did in the sound insulating studio. Brian decided to break the silence.

‘Do you think he’s really mad?’.

John scoffed. ‘Roger? He’s mad as they come. I mean, he kind of has to be in order to survive being in a band with us.” He became more serious as he saw Brian’s expression, however. ‘He’s Roger, you know how he can be. He’ll be fine.’

Brian kept his eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of him, wishing he could believe John’s words. He had a point, of course. Roger got mad, a lot. But still, Brian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different, somehow. But maybe his mind was just overthinking things. 

‘Did you know that it’s put-a-pillow-on-your-fridge-day today?’  
Brian look at him somewhat incredulously. He can’t stop the smile from coming to his face, however. “No way, that’s ridiculous.'' 

John nodded, ‘You put a pillow on your fridge for good luck. Or in your fridge, whatever floats your goat.’

‘Floats your boat,’ Brian corrected.

‘Nah, I like the idea of floating goats better.’ This time Brian laughed. His laughter died quickly however, when they arrived at Roger’s house. Roger was lying, tear-stricken, in the stoop leading up to his front door. On that door there were some peculiar spots that definitely weren’t there before, and Brian didn’t take too long to recognise them as blood. Roger looked to be asleep, but as they came closer, he looked up.

‘Oh so you’re here to annoy me again, huh?’ He said, looking away.

‘No Rog, don’t be ridiculous, we brought your coat.’ Roger’s eyes drifted slowly to the fur coat in John’s hands. He got up slowly, stumbled, fell down, and got up again. He stumbled his way to John, snatched his coat out of his hands, and fumbled in the pocket for his keys. When Brian and John made no sign of leaving, he turned around again and stared them straight in the eyes. ‘I got my coat, so you can go now.’ He turned his back to them again and tried to open his door. He dropped his keys, bent down to pick them up, banged his head against the door, and fell down on his ass. He cursed. Roger tried to get up, and Brian offered him a helping hand. Roger shrugged him off. ‘What are you still doing here? I told you you could go!’

Brian reached into his pocket for the cold smooth metal and retrieved Roger’s necklace. ‘Here,’ he offered, extending his hand, ‘you left this in the studio.’ Roger just glanced at it and scowled, but made no move to accept it.

‘Keep it.’

‘No, why, it’s yours?’ Brian replied, baffled.

‘Why should I? I’m not allowed to wear it.’

‘What, why would you not be allowed to wear it?’ Brian eyed his friend with confusion.

‘You know what? Why don’t you just leave. There’s no need for you to be seen with a .. a…, someone like me.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘You know bloody well what I mean, Brian.’

‘No, I really don’t.’

‘A fairy.

‘Wait, you’re gay? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that of course, but why all the,’ Brian made a vague gesture, ‘women?’

‘No I’m not gay you idiot, I just look like a fag. You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so smart, you can be rather daft.’

‘Oh.’ Brian didn’t have anything more to say. This conversation was confusing, and his foggy head wasn’t helping.

Roger turned back to opening the door again, and after a couple of tries, the door clicked open. Instead of going inside immediately though, he waited with the door half open, before turning back and looking at Brian. Brian raised his eyebrows, not knowing what to expect.

‘Did you mean it?’

‘Mean what?’

‘That you’d still accept me if I was … if I were gay?’

‘Of course, why wouldn’t I …’ before Brian could finish his sentence, Roger enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Later he’d probably say he lost balance and that’s why he crashed into Brian, but Brian knew better.

‘Ahem,’ John coughed awkwardly. He hadn’t said anything since they arrived, so they both had kind of forgotten he was still there. Roger let go of Brian before turning to John and hugging him as well. John stood still for a moment, too baffled to move, then returned the hug. When he’d let go of John, Brian offered Roger his necklace again. This time he accepted it with a smile.

‘Do you guys want to come in for a drink?’ Roger offered.

‘Normally I’d decline, but I’m still confused as to what just happened,’ John said as he followed Roger into his home. Brian just shrugged and followed suit. He still had a lot of unanswered questions himself. 

When Roger had finished brewing tea and they’d all settled down, John asked: ‘So, do you want to tell us what that was all about?’ at the same time as Brian started: ‘Roger, first of all, I’m really sorry.’ They both stopped talking to let the other speak, and when they didn’t after a moment, started talking at the same time again. For some reason, Roger thought that was hilarious, and fell into a giggling fit. Brian eyed him wearily, he had no idea what to make of his friend’s behaviour, and was starting to get concerned.

‘I’ll have the apology first,’ Roger said once he got himself together, gesturing for Brian to speak.

‘I’m really sorry for what I said, I meant no offense. Of course you look feminine, but that’s not a bad thing. I mean, I’m wearing a dress in half of my childhood pictures.’

‘You’re kidding?’ Roger didn’t laugh, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his eyes. John looked at him amusedly.

‘Yeah, wait, I thought you knew?’ Roger shook his head. ‘My mother was pregnant before she had me, I should have had a sister. But unfortunately, that’s not how it turned out; so when I was born, I suppose I had to make up for that.’ 

Roger looked angry at this. ‘They can’t ask that of you! You should be allowed to be yourself, that should be enough.’

‘Oh no, I didn’t mind! But I had no idea at first that some things were girly, and my parents never stopped me if I wanted to play with dolls, or wear a dress, or something like that. I don’t think they’ve ever encouraged it, but they never encouraged my playing with toy cars or anything either.’

‘Oh.’ Roger seemed to contemplate that for a moment. ‘That’s alright then, I suppose.’ Roger sighed, and seemed to have to collect himself for what he was going to say next. ‘My parents… weren’t like that. I mean, they never meant any harm, I think. And maybe it’s just me, maybe I wasn’t easy enough or sweet enough as a child. My sister, she could never do anything wrong. But I seemed to do everything wrong, all the time. I mean, I’m sure they just wanted what was best for me. Wanted me to be a proper man, get a good job, in dentistry preferably.’ Roger grimaced. ‘But I just never did. Live up to their expectations, I mean. So I decided to go against them completely. If I couldn’t be good enough, I’d get good at being bad, if that makes sense.’ Roger sighed. ‘Probably not. It’s just… I failed at being a good son, so I stopped trying and did the exact opposite.’ Roger stared at the tea going cold in his cup. 

Brian reached out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. He really didn’t know what to say after what he just heard. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything because John beat him to it.

‘Roger, I don’t think you failed at being a good son. And I’m sure your parents are proud of you, even if they aren’t good at showing it.’ Roger looked like he was going to interrupt, but John held up his hand. ‘No, let me speak. Your parents should be proud of you, and I’ve never met them, so of course I can’t say anything for sure, but I truly believe they love you. You may not always have been easy, but,’ John stopped for a moment, thinking of the best way to say this, ‘Parents don’t love their children because they are easy, but because they are their children. And maybe you didn’t do the things they expected you to, but that doesn’t mean what you did couldn’t be just as good, or better even; and maybe they didn’t say they loved you or valued you when you needed to hear it, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t do it. What I can say for sure is, if I was your dad,’ Roger looked disgusted at the thought, ‘I would be proud of you. You can take care of yourself, you’ve got a record deal, you’re smarter than you show to the world, don’t think I don’t notice. And you’ve got amazing friends.’ John added teasingly, before getting serious again. ‘If your parents are anywhere near as smart as you, they see that, too.’

‘Thanks, John.’ Roger said, teary-eyed.

‘And to be honest, I do think the necklace looks great on you. It’s your style, and you make it rock. Or no,’ John took a closer look at the necklace, ‘metal.’

Roger sighed disappointedly, but looked amused anyway, and the air suddenly felt lighter. The conversation turned to other subjects, and the three friends quickly lost track of time.  
After some time, Brian yawned and stretched. ‘Hmm, I’m tired. Maybe I should go home and sleep.’

John looked at the time. ‘I’m afraid we’ve missed the last bus, so we’re going to have to walk, though,’ John said apologetically, as if it was his fault there were no more busses at 2 a.m.. Before Brian could reply, Roger offered that they could stay over. Brian and John made eye contact and that was all it took to agree that the invitation sounded a lot more alluring than having to walk home. Roger had one extra mattress that after some negotiation would be John’s for the night, and they created a makeshift bed with some blankets and pillows from the couch for Brian.

A little while after they’d all said their goodnights and gone to bed, John’s voice rang out in the dark. ‘But Roger, I still don’t get it. Are you gay or not?’ Roger just laughed and said ‘G’night, Deacy,’ leaving the question unanswered.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to start off by thanking @lover_of_blue_roses for beta-ing this fic! I had not written for literally years, and it was way harder than I had expected to get back. It took a challenge on a discord (for which I'm way too late, but oh well) and this lovely beta to get back. It's not my best work, but hopefully I'll get back on track!


End file.
